


Love is a Battlefield

by LuxKen27



Series: Sweet Valley Sophomores [4]
Category: Sweet Valley High - Francine Pascal
Genre: Drama, F/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 17:38:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2237712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxKen27/pseuds/LuxKen27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roger Collins leads a double life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love is a Battlefield

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2014 Summer Mini Challenge prompt play. Further author's notes can be found [at my Dreamwidth](http://luxken27.dreamwidth.org/750396.html).
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER** : The _Sweet Valley High_ concept, storyline, and characters are © 1983 – 2003 Francine Pascal/Bantam Books/Random House. No money is being made from the creation of this material. No copyright infringement is intended.

~*~

Roger Collins thoughtfully examined the layouts for the upcoming edition of the _Oracle_. Beside him was Penny Ayala, the quiet junior who had just been elected as editor-in-chief of Sweet Valley High’s student newspaper. She was sitting at the drafting table, wringing her hands and chewing on her lip as she nervously awaited his verdict.

His smile was gentle as he laid a hand on her shoulder. “This looks great, Penny,” he declared. “Very professional.”

“Really?” she breathed, her expression equal parts surprise and pleasure as she turned to him. “You think it’s ready to put to bed?”

“I’d only make one change,” he suggested, pointing to the far column on page three. “Move this ad, and give Liz Wakefield’s article half-inch caps. Maybe shift the ad to the bottom, instead of between the two articles?”

“Done!” Penny cried, quickly moving the items on the galley boards and taping them in place. “How’s that look?”

“Perfect,” he replied, offering her another encouraging shoulder pat. “Congrats, Penny. This is a wonderful start to your tenure as editor.”

She blushed, clasping her hands together again as she averted her eyes back to the layouts. “Thanks, Mr. Collins. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Nonsense!” he chuckled as he carefully stacked the galleys. “You made all of the decisions, and did all of the hard work. I just got a sneak peak of the next issue.” He winked at her. “That’s the best part of this job!” 

He pulled out a leather portfolio and began putting the stacks of boards into it. Penny stood up, shifting her weight awkwardly from one foot to the other as she watched him. “Should I take these to the printer’s?” she asked. “I, um, I have my driver’s license now.”

“I’ll take them,” he said. “It’s on my way.” He glanced at the windows, eyeing the dying rays of sunlight that fell over the school’s front quad. “Why don’t you go ahead and enjoy the rest of your afternoon? This is still prime beach season, isn’t it?”

Penny shrugged. “For some people, I suppose,” she mumbled, zipping her backpack and slinging it over her shoulders. “Maybe I’ll take the scenic route home.”

He closed the portfolio and stood it on end as she shuffled out of the newspaper office. “Have a good evening, Penny,” he called after her. Penny Ayala was painfully shy; she’d started coming out of her shell after joining the newspaper staff last year. It had heartened him when she was elected editor-in-chief a couple of weeks into the new school year, and he hoped that she’d soon see that her classmates really _did_ enjoy – and welcome – her company.

He sighed, picking up his tan tweed jacket and sliding it over his shoulders before gathering his belongings. The printer that the school used wasn’t really on his way, but these days he didn’t exactly take the most direct route home. He was often one of the last faculty members to leave the SVH campus, and it wasn’t just because of his dedication to his students or their extracurricular activities.

No, going home was the far more daunting and stressful task.

The sun was low in the sky, piercing through his windshield when he climbed into his car. He slipped on a pair of Ray Bans, tuned his car radio to an oldies station, and sang along with the Beach Boys as he departed the school grounds and headed downtown.

He dropped off the galleys with the printer; his next stop was a couple of blocks over. His buoyant demeanor started to deflate as he pulled up in front of Helping Hands preschool. This never used to be one of his regular stops, but he’d found it that was just easier to swing by in the afternoons than to get all the way home and have to turn back. Sometimes it was just a quick jaunt in and out, touching base with the kindly employees, but more often than not these days, it was a longer visit…and it looked like today would be one of those days.

His heart sank when he walked in and spotted his son in the front room, working on a coloring project on the floor with a couple of the caretakers. “Hi there,” he called out, greeting the trio with a friendly wave.

“Daddy!” Teddy shrieked, jumping up from his spot and streaming out into the lobby, launching himself into Roger’s arms and clutching at him tightly. “You came for me,” he whimpered into his father’s neck, his warm tears pooling in the crook of Roger’s shoulder.

“Of course I did, buddy,” he responded, rubbing a soothing hand over his son’s back. “Did you have a good day at school?”

Teddy nodded and sniffled, smearing one tiny hand across his face as Roger picked him up and turned to the preschool workers who had followed Teddy into the lobby.

“Everything okay today?” he asked, shifting his son’s weight to rest more comfortably on his hip.

The employees exchanged a long look. “Well…” She shrugged sheepishly. “Mrs. Collins promised Teddy that she’d pick him up today, and take him for ice cream.”

“Uh-huh,” Teddy confirmed.

The other employee looked at him. “And, well, we were starting to worry,” she continued.

“Mommy forgoted me,” Teddy burbled.

Roger’s eyes fell closed as he tightened his hold on his son. He’d long ago given up on making excuses for his wife’s erratic behavior, but it still hurt him when he was left to clean up her messes – especially when the mess was their emotionally distraught son, who had become so fearful of abandonment that he’d regressed to the point of losing almost complete control of his bladder.

 _I can’t keep doing this_ , he thought, _to him, or to myself_.

“I apologize,” he said softly, directing his words more to the preschool workers than to his son. “I’ll speak with her when we get home. Thank you for keeping him until I could get here.” He turned, shifting Teddy’s weight again as he started towards the front door.

“Um, Mr. Collins?” The hesitant tone stopped him in his tracks, and he squeezed his eyes shut again, knowing what they were going to say even before they said it. He sighed inwardly before facing the ladies again with his most patient expression.

“I’m sorry,” she continued, gazing at him sympathetically, “but your wife didn’t pay us this morning when she dropped Teddy off. She said she was going to, but – well, she never made it back this afternoon.”

He nodded ruefully. “Let me just put Teddy in the car,” he replied.

“Let me help you,” the second worker broke in, sprinting ahead of him and holding the front door open. She smiled at him, but her eyes were wary, marring the practiced reassurance of her features.

He accepted her offer wordlessly, allowing her to take Teddy’s hand when he lowered him to the ground outside and fished his car keys from his pocket. He burned with embarrassment as he opened the back door and adjusted the car seat. He was perfectly capable of putting his son in the car by himself, of course, but the preschool employees were obviously not going to let him leave without paying, as his wife had done that morning. It angered him that they didn’t trust him, but at the same time, he could understand their circumspection.

Still, he clenched his teeth as he finally stood aside, letting the preschool worker lift Teddy up and strap him into his seat, taking the time to fuss rather needlessly over him. Apparently that was his cue to return inside and settle the bill.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, doing his level best to also shove aside his annoyance, and went back into the building. The other employee was standing behind the front desk, hunched over the registry book. She looked up as he approached, wearing the same wary yet smiling expression as her coworker had before.

“I do apologize for this,” he managed, his tone smooth and contrite. “How much do we owe you?”

“One hundred,” she responded, swallowing hard. She met his astonished look with prepared patience. “I’m afraid Mrs. Collins didn’t pay last month, either.”

He nodded curtly, pulling out his checkbook and borrowing her pen. He made the check out for four times the amount she’d quoted him. “For the rest of the year,” he explained as he handed it to her. “You have taken very good care of my son, and I want that to continue.”

She nodded, drawing one finger along the edge of the check. “Thank you, Mr. Collins,” she replied, and he could hear the tears of pity in her voice as she looked up at him. “We really appreciate that. Teddy is always welcome here at Helping Hands.”

He offered her a parting smile as he left, and made sure to thank the employee still looking over Teddy as well. It was only after he’d climbed back into his car, and after he was sure that she’d returned inside, that he covered his face with his hands and sighed in total, utter defeat.

“Daddy?” piped up a tiny voice from the backseat.

His heart skipped a beat as he looked up, catching Teddy’s eye in the rearview mirror. “Yes, son?”

Teddy’s lower lip quivered. “Can we still get ice cream?”

~*~

The impromptu trip to the grocery store lifted Roger’s spirits, as he and Teddy had quite a bit of fun picking out an ice cream flavor. Teddy was smiling by the time they’d made it home; he opened up a bit more as the two of them sat down for dinner, chatting happily about his adventures at preschool that day. The two laughed over their ice cream, and Teddy didn’t protest when Roger took him upstairs for his bath.

The five-year-old’s petulance slowly crept back, however, as his father dressed him in a fresh pair of pajamas and tucked him into bed. He asked for two (long) bedtime stories, and clutched at his father’s hand when his request for a third was gently turned down. Roger offered a kiss instead, along with the reassurance that he would stay until Teddy fell asleep.

He sat for a long time at Teddy’s bedside, stroking his son’s hair with his free hand. He hadn’t given much thought to having children before Teddy arrived, but his son had become the center of his universe when he was born. Holding him in his arms for the first time had been a moment of pure, unadulterated magic.

It was the last time his life had been bursting with love and tranquility, the last time he had felt happy and balanced and totally secure. He’d just obtained his master’s degree in English, had just married his college sweetheart, had just applied for and been accepted onto the faculty at Sweet Valley High. Little did he know that that moment – holding his firstborn son in his arms – would be the pinnacle of his life, and that his world would come crashing down in spectacular fashion soon after. 

Amongst the chaos and havoc of the last five years, the one thing that had never wavered was his love for and devotion to his son. Every decision he’d made had been based on what he thought was best for Teddy. He’d tried – _God knows_ he’d tried: to hold his marriage together, to care for his wife, to protect his son from her antics when she was in the throes of her addictions. 

His students at SVH adored him and marveled at how in tune he was with them when they came to him with their problems and worries, but none of them knew just how close some of their problems hit home for him. He counseled them because he cared about them, but practicing what he preached had made him face a few ugly truths of his own.

As much as he dreaded his latest decision, he knew in his heart – and his gut – that it was the right one. 

Roger lingered by Teddy’s side, even after his son had fallen asleep and his grip on his father’s hand had fallen away. He brushed his son’s hair from his brow and pressed a soft kiss to his temple. He eased up from the mattress and tiptoed out of the room, sparing one last look at his son before pulling the door into its frame.

Roger’s chest tightened as he continued down the hall, heading for his own bedroom. He knew what he’d find there even before he entered the room, and thus, he wasn’t surprised to find his wife sprawled out on her side of their bed, one arm hanging down over the side of the mattress, still clutching an empty wine bottle.

He clenched and unclenched his hands as he approached her, trying not to judge her too harshly as she snored drunkenly. Her bottle-blonde hair was matted to her forehead, wispy split ends rising and falling beneath her ragged breathing. Bracelets clattered together noisily on the arm extended to the floor. Her dress was rumpled, one shoulder falling down to reveal a black bra strap, her skirt hitched up on the other side, showcasing the run in her stockings. He almost fell over her shoes – ugly, impractical heels that she wore to spite him – and he swallowed a curse as he kicked them aside.

It was hard to look at her now and still see the woman he’d married. May had always been a little wild, more into the social scene at college than he was, but she was also passionate and witty and assertive. She’d single-handedly led the protest against their college doing away with the art department, working tirelessly – and endlessly – to organize, to spread the message, to commandeer the march and the sit-in that had ensued. She’d won the battle, too, and had graduated on time and with honors, to boot.

Somewhere along the line, though, her life had gone pear-shaped. She’d started drinking heavily after Teddy’s birth; she didn’t bother returning to her job after her maternity leave, instead spending all of her time holed up at home with the curtains closed. She’d completely folded in on herself, shutting out her husband, unable to deal with her infant son. When she finally emerged from her self-imposed exile, it was as if her entire personality had changed. She’d turned into a vindictive, manipulative, bitter woman who spent long stretches of time away from her family – partying, doing drugs, sleeping around. She didn’t bother to hide her behavior from her husband, even if she clung to the thin veneer of young motherhood when facing the rest of the world. Roger had become her personal punching bag, and she’d soon zeroed in on his weakness for his son. It was just about the only thing she could still hold over his head – raging at him for daring to think he was a better parent than her, sobbing over her own shortcomings as a mother, seeking reassurance from him that he’d never leave her, for Teddy’s sake.

She’d wanted him to do the heavy lifting of keeping their marriage together while she went out and “found herself” in a haze of drugs and sex and alcohol, but he just couldn’t do it anymore.

Roger leaned over her, cupping his hand around her exposed shoulder and giving her a firm shake. “Wake up, May,” he instructed her.

She bucked against him, whining in her sleep as she tried to shrug him off. He stood resolute, however, reaching instead for the arm lolling off the side of the bed and prying the bottle away from her. She groaned, fisting her now-empty hand and taking a wild swing; he only just managed to duck out of the way before grabbing her flailing arm and heaving her over onto her back.

“Wake up, May,” he said again, hoisting her up against the pillows as she coughed herself awake. “We need to talk.”

She blinked, lifting bleary green eyes to meet his disapproving gaze. “What?” she choked out, pushing one hand through her disheveled hair. She scowled when she realized who had awoken her. “What do you want?”

“This has to end, May,” he said, striving to keep his voice steady and even. “You need to get help.”

She narrowed her eyes as she yanked the sleeve of her dress back over her shoulder. “Or what?” she contended with a sneer.

Roger clenched his fists at his sides, gathering every shred of his inner resolve. “I’m leaving.”

She gaped openly at him, but now that he’d finally said it, it was as if the floodgates had opened. “I can’t do this anymore, May,” he went on. “I can’t keep coming home to find you like this. I can’t keep covering for you with our friends, or your parents, or Teddy. I can’t support this family on my own, or hold this marriage together by myself.” 

He paused, drawing a deep breath. “This is supposed to be a partnership, May. I’m your husband, not your father.”

“That’s right,” she hissed, fire flashing in her eyes, “you _aren’t_ my father, and you can’t tell me what to do, you son of a bitch!” She reached for the empty wine bottle that he’d set on her nightstand, swinging it towards him with all of her might.

He ducked out of the way again, grabbing hold of the bottom of the bottle, and pulled it away, sending it rolling to safety on the other side of the room. “Stop it,” he ordered, before tempering his tone, mindful of their sleeping child just down the hall. “ _Look_ at yourself, May. What’s happened to you?”

Her expression crumbled, her eyes filling with tears. “I don’t know,” she whispered, drawing her knees to her chest as she covered her face with her hands. “Oh, God, I don’t know.”

Roger sank down beside her on the bed and gathered her in his arms. She wept openly against him, heart-rending sobs racking her chest. He couldn’t stop the wave of love and protectiveness that washed through him as he held her. “I love you,” he assured her softly, brushing his fingers through her hair, “and I want to help you.”

“Don’t leave me,” she begged, closing her arms around his torso, pressing her forehead into his shoulder. “Please, _please_ don’t leave me.”

He swallowed hard. How many times had he promised not to leave her in the past, and how many times had it come back to bite him? He loved her, yes, but it was becoming quite clear to him that he couldn’t save her. Their marriage had become a game of play-acting, and he was so, so tired of it.

“The only way I can help you,” he started, ultimately deciding to ignore her pleas for further reassurance, “is to help you help yourself. You have to _want_ the change for it to happen; I can’t force it on you.”

“Don’t leave me,” she reiterated, clinging to him. “Please, Roger, don’t leave, and I’ll change – I _swear_ I will. I can’t lose you!”

“Tell me what you want,” he urged her, absently gathering her hair at the nape of her neck before releasing it. “I can take you to the hospital right now, or call a rehabilitation center and see about checking you in.”

She sniffled, curling into him like a small child as he rubbed her back. “I want _you_ ,” she replied in a small, pitiful voice.

“But don’t you understand?” he sighed, drawing away from her. He touched her cheek. “I can’t do it by myself. I can’t save you, May.”

He watched as her filmy, puppy-dog eyes suddenly hardened. “So you’re going to abandon me instead?” she spat, her face flushing bright crimson as she abruptly shoved him away.

He nearly tumbled off the side of the bed, but managed to catch himself. “I’m not abandoning you,” he returned fiercely. “This is my line in the sand, May. I’ve got to think about what’s best for our son.”

“And you think separating him from his mother is what’s best?” she shot back incredulously. “Roger Collins, you have some nerve!”

He stood, taking a step away from her. “Teddy is more important to me than our marriage,” he informed her tersely. “And don’t act like you didn’t know that, because you’ve been holding it over my head for the last five years!”

She launched herself at him with a vicious roar, knocking him to the floor and momentarily stealing the breath from his lungs. She sat astride him, her knees straddling his hips, and she pressed her hands hard against his chest, pinning him down. “Don’t you _dare_ think for _one second_ that you’re going to take my son away from me,” she threatened, her voice steely and low. “He is _my_ son, and _I_ am his mother, and no court in the country will _dare_ grant you custody over me!”

He grabbed her shoulders and gave her a firm shake. “Stop it, May,” he commanded. “Just – _stop it_ , right now.”

Her smile was sinister as she zeroed in on her newly-acquired target. “That’s right, Roger,” she hissed with malicious glee, “if you abandon me, that means you’re also abandoning your son!”

“ _You’re_ the one who’s abandoned him!” he shot back. “You promise him the world, and then forget about him the moment he’s out of your sight. How many times have I had to pick him up from preschool this week – this month – _this year_?! How many times has it been me who has made his dinner, given him his bath, tucked him into bed? How many times have _you_ gotten up in the middle of the night to soothe him after he has a nightmare, and to change his sheets after he wets the bed?”

She snorted as she hunkered down over him, digging the heels of her hands into his ribs. “What do you want, a medal?” she sneered.

He shook his head. “I do those things because I love him,” he contended, “just like how I hold your hair back when you vomit, and bathe you when you’re too sick to stand in the shower, and tuck _you_ into bed when you finally return home from your escapades.”

He could tell that his words hit home because she eased her iron grip from his chest, shifting the bulk of her weight onto his abdomen before sliding off of him completely. She looked shell-shocked as she sank to the ground beside him, her knees still splayed, her hair falling over her face. He sat up beside her, rubbing his chest where she’d held him down.

“I love you,” he reiterated, “but this is _it_. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live like this anymore, and neither can Teddy. He’s going to start kindergarten next year, and he needs a steady and safe home life. He needs to know that he has support and love and care from at least _one_ of his parents.

“I’m not cutting you out of his life, May,” he continued, shifting onto his knees before rising to his full height, “but you need to get some serious, professional help.”

She continued to sit on the floor, still as a statue, staring wordlessly at the carpet.

His heart broke as he gazed down at her, and he had to fight the urge to gather her close again, to sit and rock and assure her that he wasn’t going to leave, or give up on their marriage. It was the bitterest taste of defeat.

He turned mechanically, walking over to his closet and pulling out the suitcase he’d already packed for himself. The room was as silent as a pin as he retrieved the empty wine bottle, closed his closet door, and picked up the suitcase.

He looked back at his wife as he graced the threshold of their room. “When you’re ready to be a wife and mother again, you just let me know,” he said softly. “I’m going to take Teddy to my parents’ for a little while.”

Her only response was a broken sob.

“I’ll be back this weekend,” he continued after a beat, “and we can sit down, and start this – process, to settle things.”

At that, she collapsed onto the floor with an earth-shattering wail. 

Her lonely, aching cries followed Roger down the hall to their son’s room, stabbed at him as he gently woke Teddy, and haunted him as he tried to explain why they were leaving in the middle of the night. He managed to pull together some essentials for his son, and get them both back out to the car without breaking down himself.

As hard as it was to leave his house that night with only his son and two small suitcases in tow, he knew in his heart – and in his gut – that it had been the right decision to make.


End file.
